


Beyond him and nothing

by Anne_L



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_L/pseuds/Anne_L
Summary: That's where I lie.





	Beyond him and nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there~
> 
> I never thought I'd write something with this ship, but here I am. This story is meant for a DeLiPa, a Brazilian gay writing challenge usually held on Facebook. The theme was Disney songs and I got 'Gaston' (and ruined it). 
> 
> I'm still shivering, but it's all over now, so I guess that's a good thing, haha
> 
> English isn't my mother tongue, so I would really appreciate any comments regarding grammar, sentence structure or anything you'd like to point out. 
> 
> I'm gonna proofread this, I swear.
> 
> Giula, please don't hate me

It was raining when he arrived at the cemetery, even though, since the curse had been broken, the sky remained clear every day. A farewell gift from the world, maybe. A mere coincidence, more likely. What didn’t strike him as a coincidence was the fact that the cemetery was almost empty, except for himself and Belle. Since the actual burial—which ended within a few minutes, after a quick read and a send-off—she had stood there without muttering a single word. The three or four steps that separated them felt like a whole universe, as if they belonged to two opposing realities.

“How would you say if you could see us right now, Gaston?” He thought, staring at the wet wooden cross marking the grave. “Would you be disappointed no one else is here or would her presence be enough?”

Although he was inclined to believe the second option, the first one fit Gaston better. More than his affection for Belle—if you could call it that—his pride and lust for the spotlight made Gaston who he truly was. It had led him to stir the mob into fury and attack the Beast’s castle. It had led him to his own demise. Would Gaston act any differently if he regained his memories from before the spell? Unlike most villagers, he hadn’t been born there, but moved to that land after the war. The witch’s magic prevented him from aging or wondering why nobody else did; however, did it also alter his beliefs and his personality? Given that several affectionate people from the neighborhood had turned into hateful creatures throughout those 21 years, this theory wasn’t so hard to believe.

Perhaps it explained why Belle still stood by Gaston’s grave, all his misdoings aside.

“LeFou,” she suddenly said, approaching him. “I… I’m sorry.”

Perhaps she felt guilty about the part she and the Beast—Prince Adam, he knew now—had played in it.

 “I did try to convince more people to come, but they were adamant about it. I think they’re still ashamed about following Gaston and invading the castle.”

“You…” He lifted his eyebrows. “You did that? Why?”

“Why? Everyone deserves a proper burial. Even him.”

Her kindness hurt like a lash. It seemed to validate Gaston’s feelings for her, even though LeFou knew his infatuation had more to do with beauty and less with… Well, everything else. It might be the second option after all. Belle was in fact the best girl one could find in the village, the best person any of them would ever met. And Gaston deserved the best.

 “Why do you care?” he asked, only to receive another lash. Her presence had escalated from disturbing to utterly annoying in a matter of seconds, but LeFou needed more proof, he needed confirmation, beyond shadow of doubt, that she was the ultimate option. “Is it because you and Adam killed him?”

She glanced at him in shock.

“Is that what you think?”

His first instinct was to shout “yes!” and dare her to defend herself. Clenching his fists, he let the anger consume him little by little, an emotion which he had been bottling up since the news of Gaston’s death. It came in crushing waves, covering his body till he couldn’t breathe, till it drained everything and left only emptiness—or not quite. Caught in the undertow, there was a shred of guilty hidden deep within. LeFou fought it and refused to give in, but lacked the strength to defeat his better judgement.  

He sighed.

“No… Not really.”

“Are you sure?”

Reluctantly, he brought himself to talk:

“I _know_ you didn’t kill him. Adam was just protecting you. Gaston was… mean. And selfish. I know all of that.”

“And you miss him anyway.” Belle showed him a kind smile. “It’s okay to miss him, LeFou. To be… mad at us because he’s gone. I understand that and honestly, I wish… I really wish things hadn’t turned out this way, but I can’t change what happened.”

“I wouldn’t ask that you. I just…” The cross was still in his sight. “I keep wondering how life with him would be now that the curse is broken. It had to be better than this, right? He had to be… better.”

Belle couldn’t guarantee that and they both knew it, but once LeFou started blabbing, he wasn’t able to stop. That guilt, it pierced him like a sword, a constant reminder that he had failed Gaston in the most important moment and now he was dead. If only LeFou had said something, knocked some sense into him, literally, if necessary…

“The curse poisoned him, turned him into a horrible man, Belle. You should have seen him in the war, when we met. There was no man as strong or driven as Gaston, no one could inspire such respect and admiration. It astonished me every time. He made captain in a heartbeat, of course, but never stopped being my friend, though I could barely hold a musket. He was so charismatic, so amazing, I couldn’t help but…” He closed his eyes for a moment, preventing himself from being too inappropriate. “That Gaston would have made a fine suitor for you. Not that Adam isn’t one… Hm, Prince Adam.”

“Oh, LeFou… Gaston and I were not meant to be. His personality did play a huge part in my decision to refuse him, regardless of that, it would never work. I’d never bring myself to love him as you do.”

He looked away.

“Well, the entire village adored him, so it wasn’t so hard… Although I guess that came from the curse as well, since no one attended his funeral, except for you.”

“And you.”

“I don’t matter… But no feast, no beer? Oh boy, would he be disappointed!”

Belle’s eyebrows tightened.

“Of course you matter! You are the person who loves him the most.”

“Did you know Gaston at all?” he said as he frowned. “That’s not enough. Never was. I can’t make up for an entire village. Well, maybe you could.”

“I honestly doubt that. And I think you do too,” she mended before he denied it. “He never loved me, LeFou. He loved the idea of me, a conquest, a difficult one.”

“A hunt. He often referred to you as that.”

“Yes.” It took Belle some effort not to roll her eyes. “And he was so focused on this hunt, he didn’t pay much attention to anything else, but I don’t think he saw you as any other villager. You were different.”  

“Was I? I never felt… different.”

“I believe so. But I also believe you deserved better.”

“Better?” He had to laugh. “It doesn’t get any better than Gaston.”

“I meant someone who appreciated you more than he did.”

Feeling the raindrops on his hair, LeFou blinked a few times while the words sunk in. Belle was so wrong it left him frustrated, and yet he couldn’t find the strength to correct her. But she was wrong, for who else would listen to his babble every single day and join him in silly songs about their own qualities? Who would indulge him in long anecdotes about their hunts, without ever getting bored of his company?

To be fair, the silhouette of a village boy came to his mind as he imagined all that, but the boy wasn’t Gaston, he would never be Gaston. It felt weird to compare the two of them.

“There isn’t anyone like him.”

“No, and there will never be,” Belle agreed. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t ever let go. Holding on to him will also be a hunt of sorts, an impossible one. And eventually the weight may be too much to handle. I know it’s not the same, but that’s what I did when my mom died. I didn’t even have any memories of her, so I created some, I fed a fantasy of her and, for a while, it was enough to keep me happy. But it also hurt.”

“I… I do feel hurt,” he confessed, unable to gather enough courage to look at her. It was getting colder as the night came and his wet clothes were starting to bother him. “But sometimes it seems like, if I don’t feel this way anymore, I won’t feel anything else about him.”

“You can miss him. You can visit him whenever you feel like it. Letting go isn’t much about forgetting, but learning how to remember a loved one properly, so that it doesn’t hurt you. If it seems too much to handle at first, you can call me to help you out, whether it’s with a hug or a _long_ conversation in a cemetery, in the rain,” Belle laughed, which brought a smile to his face.

“I would like that.” He gazed at his feet. “I’m sorry I accused you of killing him, I didn’t mean it, not at all.”

“I know. Now…” She patted her hair a bit, frowning right afterwards. “How would you like to sit by the fire and drink something warm?”

“I guess it wouldn’t be so bad…” He smiled.

They left the cemetery together and as they walked, LeFou felt himself a little more distant than when he had come in. He thought about that village boy again, but this time, with a smile. It might take a while, but maybe there was something after Gaston after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I went for the idea that Gaston is everyone's favorite guy, he's amazing, no one compares to him, he's roughly the size of a barge, blah blah. LeFou is well aware of that and, after Gaston dies, he pretty much loses all hope. 
> 
> I hope I didn't ruin the ship for you, haha. I admit this isn't one of my best stories, but there was a deadline and this was the best I could do (sorry again, Giula)
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments anyway~
> 
> I'll be okay next time


End file.
